got sleep?

Nights and mornings are the hardest right now, and I anticipate they will continue to be once I'm in the woods.

When I was seven, I had my first and last camp experience as a child. I got homesick every night. One night, my counselor found me crying and took me outside to the porch of our tee-pee. She read me scripture that soothed me, she prayed for me, then tucked me back in and sat there until I finally fell asleep.

Sixteen years later, I still get homesick--even when I'm home. For home to me is always somewhere else. When I'm in Dallas, home is where my mom is. When I'm with my mom, home is back in Dallas. Home will always be Magnolia, and very rarely am I there. When I'm with my dad, home is years earlier and years to come.

Alone time is not my favorite time of the day. I spend a good chunk of the daylight surrounding myself with people. At night, I'm all by myself. I lie in my bed, thinking. Thinking and thinking and thinking. Of what is to come, of what has been, of you and this and the future. The thinking leads to worrying. What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not prepared? What if it's not what I hope it will be? Will I be able to see them before I go? What if I don't? Will it ruin everything? What will happen once I'm gone? Is everything going to be ok?

Sleep only comes with breathing exercises and the scripture I continue to read to myself. I know, I'm too young for this mess.

"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. " Lamentations 3: 21-23

I wake up the next morning with knots in my stomach and literally have to convince myself to wake up, get out of bed, and move. There are things to do, Lydia. It's time to get going. Once I'm up, it's easier. Life becomes more realistic; my thoughts become more rational. I'll survive the wilderness.

Moving away is the toughest thing I've ever had to do, but it's the right thing to do. I have been called to live a life bigger than myself, but man, I am going to miss you. I am going to miss my home.